


Panic

by annablack1102



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fluff, Language, No Smut, Panic Attacks, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Sweet Negan (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annablack1102/pseuds/annablack1102
Summary: Negan finds you, his wife, in the midst of a panic attack and surprises you with how he handles it.





	Panic

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from a friend on tumblr. It's all about the reader going through a panic attack so if that bothers you, don't read it.

The world was spinning. 

You hadn’t have a panic attack this bad since before the world changed, before the dead got up and started walking around. But today was different. 

You weren’t even sure what triggered it, and honestly you were a little ashamed. The life of Negan’s wives was supposed to be easy. You and the other ladies didn’t exactly have much to worry about, aside from Negan, if you made him mad. But you were fairly good at staying off his radar unless he wanted something from you. Which, to be honest, was basically only sex. 

You sat, huddled on the floor, with your legs to your chest as your breathing got out of control. You felt dizzy and you just wanted it to end. You tried desperately to remember some of the old techniques you used to use when the moment would strike, but right now all you could think about was the growing anxiety. 

Although you had no idea what triggered it, it continued and only worsened because you kept panicking that someone would find you in that state. That they would look at you like you’re a freak. Or worse, that they’d tell Negan.

You didn’t want him looking down on you like a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment. You knew a lot of people didn’t understand anxiety. Your own parents thought you were exaggerating the problem. If it weren’t for your friends, you would have never had the help you needed and the support you craved. 

You wondered how long you sat there in fetal position, waiting for it to be over. It felt like it had been hours. It felt like it was never going to stop. The symptoms only got worse as it progressed, as you worried even more. 

Your chest tightened uncomfortably, your vision blurred slightly, and you thought for sure you were going to die this time. That’s how you would go, in a miserable heap on the floor. You wondered who would find your reanimated corpse. You wondered if you’d try to bite one of them. It’s not like any of the wives had any means to protect themselves. What were they going to do? Stab you with a nail file?

Just as you were reaching your peak, the tip top of your anxiety, the door opened.

“Hey baby, let’s get this show on the--Jesus fucking Christ.” Negan said as he looked down at you in confusion. You tightened the hold your arms had on your knees, terror ripping through you. “Shit, baby girl. You alright?” 

Of course, the question only made it worse and you started to hyperventilate, your breathing erratic and your limbs shaking.

“Shit.” Negan hissed and moved to sit beside you on the floor. His leather jacket was missing so when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, you felt his skin against yours. At first it had the opposite effect of what he was going for and you jumped, too on edge to be comforted by it. But after a moment of him rubbing your arm, the action felt sort of soothing. “Hey, it’s alright.. Just relax, everything’s gonna be fine..” Negan assured you. 

You clenched your eyes shut, your cheeks heated in embarrassment on top of everything else. You hated that he saw you like this, your worst fear realized. Well, aside from the attack actually being the end of you. 

You wondered if you could die of embarrassment. 

Negan didn’t move though and you were surprised that he hadn’t said anything offensive. Quite the opposite actually. He made you look at him and told you to focus on his breathing. You didn’t understand why at first, too lost in your own mind, but you did it anyways. Eventually, without even thinking about it, your breathing matched his and you could feel yourself start to calm down.

“See? Feels better, right?” Negan asked, his fingers drifting through your hair. “Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ve got you. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to you.” He said, his words soothing. 

You didn’t think you’d ever heard him speak in such a way. He was always so loud, so crass. He’d only dropped the f-bomb once, when he entered your room. It was like you were seeing a whole new man. 

You couldn’t say for sure how long the two of you sat there, breathing together. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you’d closed your eyes and laid your head on his shoulder. Without even realizing it, you’d come out of the attack and your body was returning to normal. You were still embarrassed and tired, so very tired, but at least you didn’t feel like your world was ending. You didn’t feel like you were suffocating. 

“Thank you...” You croaked when you found your voice, so quiet you were surprised he heard you.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice deep again as he squeezed your shoulder and you nodded. You weren’t sure you were okay exactly, but you’d calmed down at least. 

Negan got up and left the room and you frowned, wondering if he was done with you. The anxiety creeped back up in your chest, worried that he’d send Sherry in to tell you it was time to pack your things. 

Just as you were starting to paint crazy scenarios in your head about life in the lower levels of the Sanctuary, he was back. He sat beside you again and held out a bottle of water, cold from the mini fridge in the wives’ lounge. You accepted it hesitantly and took smalls sips. 

“So...you wanna tell me what the hell brought that on?” Negan asked, sounding a bit more like himself now that your episode was over. 

You shrugged, not sure what to tell him. 

“Just popped up out of nowhere?” He asked and you nodded, just a slight tilt of your head a couple of times. He was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. “I used to have to calm this one chick down, back when I used to teach.” 

You looked at him in surprise. You had no idea he’d been a teacher. Imagining him molding young minds was just… baffling. 

He grinned at your expression. “I was the gym teacher.” He explained, which made a little more sense. But still… “I had this girl in my class, two years in a row. She was tiny, and I don’t mean short. That chick was skin and bones and riddled with problems. Got picked on, had issues at home, the fuckin’ works. Used to go into that kinda state, her breathing out of control, her eyes blown wide with fear. Sometimes for no fuckin’ reason. Got pretty good at gettin’ her to calm the hell down.” 

“I didn’t know that…” You responded, realizing you didn’t know much about his life from before. 

“Yeah, I don’t like to tell people that shit. And if you tell anyone, I’ll deny the fuck out of it.” He smirked down at you and nudged you with his shoulder. 

“I won’t tell.” You promised, a smile teasing your lips. 

“I ain’t ever had to deal with that shit myself. But, you’re my wife. And if you go through this shit again, I want you to be able to talk to me about it. I take care of my girls, don’t I?” He asked and you nodded. 

He kissed your forehead and then your cheek, very sweetly. When he kissed your neck he lingered a moment before pulling back to look at you, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. 

“So...” He raised an eyebrow. “Has the ship sailed on sex today then?” He grinned. 

You smacked his arm with a laugh. “Asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment!


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